I can't say I understand this type of poetry. It's nothing like what I normally write or read in my books.

This reminds me of my father, but in a frightening way. I don't want to go through the door yet, daddy.

The seventh month of Fuchsia's pregnancy had been a difficult one -- it was clear by now that the child she was carrying would be a large, energetic one. Which all agreed was a good thing overall, but in practice it meant that the baby kicked frequently, and this often made the Countess of Gormenghast uncomfortable and unable to sleep at nights. ( Read more... )

( Fuchsia takes up her pen and assays an answer to the Journal's question. )

Fuchsia frowned at the most recent question put to her by the Journal, and for a time she avoided giving an answer. But finally she decided it was better to reply than avoid the matter, and so she wrote:

I have had many terrors and sad things happen, especially in my first life, the one that ended in tragedy. But the thing that frightened me most ( Read more... )

Fuchsia read over the question of the week in her Journal, and took up her pen to respond.

I suppose that I might repeat my tirade about the animosity between my husband and my brother, but this has already been discussed in these pages. So we will consider it said, and I will talk on other matters ( Read more... )

Upon seeing the question topic in her Journal for the week, Fuchsia took up her quill without hesitation for thought and began to write firmly.

I wish that I could change the minds of two people: namely, my husband Steerpike and my brother Titus. We have all returned from death to the world of Gormenghast once more, and I would like to persuade ( Read more... )

Fuchsia had eagerly awaited the topic of the week, ever since the week before when the Journal had introduced her to the amazing literary world of Alice's Adventures In Wonderland. After finishing that book, she'd moved right along to Through The Looking Glass, And What Alice Found There with true enthusiasm. So what was in store for her this week ( Read more... )

Fuchsia was initially puzzled by the Journal's reference to a story she had never heard of. However, her curiosity was quickly answered, when it provided her a means to read the story in question. And so Fuchsia, Countess of Gormenghast, spent much of the day (after her official tasks were completed, of course) curled up in a large chair with the ( Read more... )

In my first life, after the Incident at the Red Room, where everything I thought I knew about Steerpike came crashing down, I fell into the blackest, most depressed of moods, and regretted so many things. I wished away everything that had ever hurt me, wished away meeting Steerpike, even wished away the fact that my dear brother was born -- because ( Read more... )

Fuchsia thought of the things she loved. Steerpike, of course. And her brother Titus. Her books -- she knew that some might think it odd that she would place her value of them so highly, above living and breathing people like Nanny Slagg, Dr. Prunesquallor or even her own father, whose loss cut her so deeply. But to Fuchsia, her books had been her ( Read more... )